recollection

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

I love doing these things. I've always liked this one that I've borrowed from Sundry, and also via A'Dell because I liked her adaptation. The last time I did this was for 2013.

1. What did you do in 2014 that you'd never done before? The "firsts" for this year are really crappy ones. I had a kid spend the night in the hospital for the first time since being born, when I took Ajax to the ER on Valentine's Day for wheezing. He was hospitalized for three days with RSV. I subsequently took him to the ER twice more for breathing issues when he'd get colds and start wheezing. All of that seems to be under control now, with inhalers that we use when he starts getting a cold. I just hope he outgrows it.

The other big first is me breaking a bone. By getting hit by a car. I've never had a broken bone in my life. Thankfully, they are fractures, and not something more serious.

But, fuck. These are all firsts I didn't want, not ever. Let's hope the rest of the review of this year is a little happier.

Oh wait, here's a lighter note: after swearing I never would, I bought UGGs.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions and will you make more for next year? I don't normally make much in the way of New Year's resolutions. I say the same thing about myself every year: that I would like to be more patient with everyone in my life. That hasn't changed.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Yes! My lovely friend Fiorella gave birth to her first baby, her son Rafael. Fiorella is Peruvian, married to a Canadian, living in Vancouver, BC. She went to law school with Seth, and lived here in DC for many years. She and husband Jack had the most amazing wedding I will ever attend, in Peru, in the Sacred Valley of the Incas. Fi and her baby are so special that they got (and will continue to get) the best of Ajax's hand me downs. I love seeing photos of Rafa wearing my favorite Ajax outfits.

4. Did anyone close to you die? One of Seth's young cousins, college-aged, took her own life in February (man, did that month SUCK). She was under treatment for both clinical depression and a chronic pain disorder, and felt there was no hope for her to ever feel good. This broke everyone's heart, though it came as no great surprise for those close to her. Please, everyone - depression lies to you. It lies. Please, be hopeful, get help if you feel like this.

5. What countries did you visit? Ha, ha, ha. I have really got to change this question to something else. All of our passports are expired, which is a little depressing. We did travel, to New Jersey for family holidays and spring break, where we did some fun NYC things. We did our usual fantastic trips to Martha's Vineyard. The only new thing in travel this year was a trip to Great Wolf Lodge in Williamsburg, VA. We just got back yesterday. Helene never wanted to leave, and I suspect we will go back.

6. What would you like to have in 2015 that you didn't have in 2014?

Health for everyone in this house, for my family and friends. There was wayyyyy too much illness and injury in 2014.

7. What dates from 2014 will be etched upon your memory and why?

This unfortunately runs towards the bad again. Ajax's ER visit and hospital stay on Valentine's Day. December 3, when I got hit by a car.

I have a medley of good, sweet memories over the year: all our time at the pool; Helene swimming like a fish; Seth's 41st birthday party; Ajax's first haircut; Halloween; a lot of ice cream consumed. Those are dreamy and lovely, though, a combination of days, not exactly etched.

8. What was your biggest achievement of this year?

Starting back running in January, and running a 10K in May in a decent time, even through all the kid illnesses and snow days and the crazy winter that we had. And then, keeping up my running all year long.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Yelling at my kids. That's the thing I most want to change.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Uh, yeah. See "hit by car."

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I'm trying to think about what I bought this year that I really, really loved. I'm excluding necessary expenses, like our new air conditioner, even though I do kind of love it (Bigger! Better! More efficient!).

I'm going to go with my Stella & Dot jewelry. I am obsessed with their designs, and I've bought not only jewelry, but bags and scarves, both for myself and as gifts.

But there's more to the story than just rampant consumerism and pretty, shiny things. I was initially invited to a S&D party by the mom of one of Helene's friends, whom I knew, but not well. The S&D representative was a mom of one of Helene's classmates, who'd just moved to DC. The party was so much fun, and I got to know both of those women, Laura and Kristen, a lot better. They started dropping hints about me hosting a party, and so I did. The party was great, with mimosas and bagels, and both new friends and old attending. I haven't done something like that in a long time. The bonus is that it helped out Kristen, whose husband is in the Army. Their family was moved to DC so her husband could get specialized treatment for brain cancer. Kristen herself has struggled with endometriosis for years, and is also getting specialized treatment for it, in order to try to have another baby. They froze her husband's sperm before he started cancer treatments. When I heard Kristen's story, I thought, well damn, the least I can do is host a jewelry party. Now, Kristen and Laura are really my friends, and both have been so generous during my convalescence, taking Helene to school events, bringing us dinner. I started out just buying some pretty jewelry, but I got some more people in my village out of it.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

All of my family, friends, and neighbors who have been so kind and generous and wonderful in helping me and Seth out while I'm laid up. I am floored by the kindness we have received.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

St. Louis prosecutor Robert McCullouch.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Childcare, mortgage, taxes, hopefully not hospital bills.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

This answer surprises even me: planning our trip to Disney World for next April. I am getting so excited about it, and I have no idea who I am any more.

16. What song will always remind you of 2014?

"Happy" by Pharrell Williams. We all love Despicable Me 2. This is one of the songs that Ajax liked this year before he was even cognizant of the movie. Now, when it comes on he says "HAPPY!" and probably "MINIONS!" in the next breath.

On Helene's last day of school in June, the school played "Happy" and had an impromptu dance party on the playgound as the kids lined up for that last fun day before summer. It was the last day of my girl as a preschooler.

Of course, there is also "Let It Go" which played ad infinitum almost this whole year, but I think we are all finally completely sick of this song, and now I'm sorry I even mentioned it here.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? (c) richer or poorer?

Well, due to recent events, this one's a doozy. (a) Compared to this time last year, I'm sadder. I was hit by a car. I have a fractured leg, and can't walk again yet. I have a head wound & surgical repair that are still healing. But, I don't think the past 4 weeks are reflective of my whole year. I'd say overall, over the whole year, I was cumulatively happier in 2014 than in 2013. (Except for February, which mostly sucked. And the endless winter, which made me resort to buying UGGs.) My kids are older and more manageable. I got to sleep a lot more. I got back to running. I had a great summer. (b) I'm thinner than last year, but I do not recommend the "get hit by car, lose a shit ton of muscle mass" weight loss program. (c) Richer, since I didn't take half of 2014 off on unpaid maternity leave.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Spend time with friends. Go on outings with just my husband.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Spend time in hospitals.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

Mostly, I sat on the sofa and read "The Goldfinch." My in-laws were here. The children opened presents, and were honestly sweet and delightful and delighted with everything they got. They were really, really good for most of the day, with only a few squabbles towards the end of the day, when we'd probably all been in the house together for too long. We ordered good Chinese food and dim sum from Tony Cheng's in honor of the Jewish side of the family. And we were going to do that anyway, even if I hadn't been laid up. It was a mellow, relaxed day. I had to let go of a lot of things, since I just couldn't do them. I am going to make it up like crazy next year - count on it.

21. What was your favorite TV program?

Because I am so on the current cutting edge, I watched all of Breaking Bad this year. I loved it. It made me terrifically homesick for New Mexico. I also kept up with Game of Thrones, Treme, Mad Men, and Downton Abbey. I totally dropped the ball on the final season of True Blood, so thank goodness for HBO GO. Aaaand that's all the TV I watched, at all. I never watch in real time. Does this all even count as TV any more?

22. What was the best thing you learned?

That I could get Toki Underground's effing amazing ramen delivered to my door. Takeout game changer!

23. What was the best book you read?

Oooh. Tough one. Here are three that I loved: The Snow Child, by Eowyn Ivey; The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt; The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, by Gabrielle Zevin. All three of them have lush, rich, detailed prose, and a perfect balance of devastatingly sad events and satisfying endings. The Goldfinch is a hefty read - almost 800 pages - but once I started, I could not stop. As a friend on Twitter said, I wanted to live in the prose forever.

24. What was your greatest food discovery?

Finally getting to try Bayley Hazen Blue cheese, which is made by Jasper Hill Farm in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, which happens to be my college friend Tory's family business. The cheese is fantastic, and is on swanky menus everywhere. I'm so thrilled for Tory and her family. I need to work that connection to get an endless supply of this cheese, somehow.

25. What did you want and get?

Last year, I wanted more sleep, in the most desperate way. I got it this year, as I took to bringing Ajax to our bed at his first wakeup of the night. Perhaps not the perfect solution, but it got everyone more sleep. It made such a huge difference in my happiness and well being. There's a reason sleep deprivation is used as torture.

26. What did you want and not get?

I wanted a certain kind of holiday season for my kids. I had great plans for tree choosing and trimming, ice skating, cookie baking, hot chocolate drinking, and fire making. But I was laid up this year, so all those things didn't happen. Next year.

27. What was your favorite film of 2014?

Since it's the only one I saw in a theater, I'm just going to say Frozen.

28. What was your best musical discovery of2014?

It was probably coming to the realization that I really like quite a number of Beyonce songs.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned forty-one, and I had a really great day. I got warm, sunshiney weather in February, and a great evening out with my husband, and I got to come home to my family. It was everything I wanted.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Spending time with my best friend, Becki. We were supposed to get together a couple of weeks ago, on the weekend we were going to the family Hanukkah party in New Jersey. Becki lives not too far away, in Connecticut, and we were going to meet up somewhere - New York, maybe. Alas, this didn't happen due to my accident. I'm so disappointed that I didn't get to see her. You've got a lot to make up for, 2015.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept of the past year?

My weight and shape were a lot more stable this year, since I hadn't just had a baby, so things were a little more fun. I always try to buy good basics - pants, skirts, jackets. This year, I tried to jazz up the many solid basics in my closet with some interesting accessories - edgier jackets, shoes, scarves, necklaces.

32. What kept you sane?

Twitter. Wine. Grocery delivery.

33. What political issue stirred you the most?

The shooting of Michael Brown by police officer Darren Wilson in Ferguson, MO, and the spotlight it has shed on the differential treatment of dark skinned young men. The Michael Browns of the future are my cousins, my friends' kids, my daughter's classmates. I have not experienced what dark skinned people experience in terms of discrimination, but I don't have to in order to know it is wrong, and to want to change it.

34. Who did you miss? I missed my friend Becki, as well as my other best college girlfriends. I hope we all get to see each other in 2015.

35. Who was the best new person you met?

Technically, my friend Jason and I met in 2013, but I'd say we really became friends this year. We first "met" via social media, and realized we lived in the same neighborhood. Then our kids went to the same school, Jason recruited me to be social media maven for our big school fundraiser, the Capitol Hill Classic 10K (he's the race director), and it was all downhill from there. We share love for our kids, our neighborhood, our kids' school, running, social media, and mixing it up a little in local politics. Jason is a pediatrician, who does cancer research at NIH, and is kind of an uber computer geek, and a marathon runner, and always involved in school events. I think he never sleeps, and is always available to lend a hand with furniture moving, kid pickups, medical advice, and his well-trained stethoscope. He's become such a great friend in kind of an unlikely way, and I'm so glad to have him as part of my village.

36. What was a valuable life lesson you learned in 2014? Do not schedule family photo sessions for late afternoon when children are tired and cranky and uncooperative. Morning only, forever and ever, amen.

37. What are some of your favorite photos from the year? I didn't get the DSLR out as much as I would have liked, and wow, it's harder to take photos when you're chasing two kids instead of just one. But there are always some favorites. 2014 looks good in this photo selection. Still, I won't be sorry to leave it behind for a new start in 2015. Cheers!

Thursday, September 11, 2014

There's a photo of all of us, from Before That Day. It was late August, 2001, Stowe, Vermont. The day couldn't have been more gorgeous - lapis blue skies, hot sun, emerald grass, and the Green Mountains. We were there for our friend Becki's wedding to the handsome Chris, carefree with sunshine and celebration, old college friends, reuniting, reliving.

We're sitting on a small, grassy slope. Bare feet, bare legs, baseball caps, sunglasses, t-shirts, grins. We are probably hung over, just a little. I have gauze bandages on a knee and a hand, from a klutzy stumble on a running path the day before. Foster has some stubble on his face, but his eyes sparkle. There is smartassery and raucous laughter, so much laughter. We lean and drape casually on each other, comfortable as worn puzzle pieces in our years of friendship. Despite the pain from my road-rashed hands and knee, I can't stop smiling. I am among my best friends - I need nothing more.

It is the last time we were together, Before. It was the last time we were more whole, not so broken, not so scarred, not so recovering.

Most of us had been at another Middlebury wedding, Duffy and Maya's, just the weekend before, in Telluride, Colorado. And now, here we were all again, in the state of our alma mater, Duffy and Maya included, for more champagne and celebration, and mountains, and best friends. An abundance of riches and luck and love. It was another amazing wedding weekend, over too soon. We are the golden ones, shot through with sun. It is as perfect as it gets.

We will never be together like that again.

***

The next time we are all together, not even a month later, it is After, and we are huddled in a box pew in the Old First Church, Bennington, Vermont, listening to Foster's voice crack with grief and horror as he eulogizes his brother, Peter, killed on September 11, 2001, on United Flight 175, the second plane crashed into the World Trade Center in New York by terrorists. We clutch sodden tissues and each other, sobbing, because Foster's voice and his grief are nearly unbearable.

***

We are broken, scattered about the country and the globe, wandering, searching, exhausted, trying to turn to each other for comfort, but none of us have anything good to give.

Duffy's law firm almost doesn't survive; it was in one of the towers, but everyone got out alive. Peter and Foster's force-of-nature mother, Sally, is diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Half of us are unemployed, flailing. My boyfriend of several years breaks up with me. We grieve. Becki and I crash our friendship into a wall of resentment and need; we won't be able to fix it until years later. Foster throws himself into work, leaving Janine feeling abandoned, running the household and caring for their three boys alone during the week. I date someone else whose cousin was at Cantor Fitzgerald, and was killed. We can't escape it - it has touched too many that we know. Steve and Paula move to Germany; Duffy and Maya to San Francisco, Rick to Los Angeles, Terra to Salt Lake City. Becki and her husband Chris get divorced. Foster's mother succumbs to ovarian cancer. Janine and Foster's marriage finally falls utterly apart. Spats fester. Rifts grow. We splinter. We try to heal. We try to start over. We reconcile. We wish. We always remember.

***

We miss you, Peter Morgan Goodrich. As always, I think about you, and your mother Sally Goodrich, on this day, and on other, better days too.

Monday, June 16, 2014

I struggle with how to bring my father into my childrens' lives, since he died almost nine years ago, two weeks before my wedding, years before they were born. Now that Helene is old enough, and congnizant enough, I have to remember to tell her stories, because my father had some great ones. He grew up in such a different time and place than our current reality: he was born in 1927 in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It was really still the Wild West. He grew up roaming the outdoors, hunting before school, getting kicked out of class for smelling like the skunk he'd hunted in the dawn. I'm sure he exasperated my petite, neat Gram, tracking dirt into her pristine little house, bringing unruly, but lovable dogs home to terrorize her yard.

I told Helene this story the other day, before her first camping trip, because it just seemed right. It's one of my favorites about my dad.

The Camp Robbers

A lifelong outdoorsman, it was only natural that my father went to forestry school at Colorado State University in Fort Collins, CO. He attended college on the GI Bill, after serving briefly in the Air Force (then the Army Air Corps) during World War II and being honorably discharged.

Upon graduation, one of his first working gigs was as a fire tower attendant somewhere in the Colorado Rockies. His job was to sit in that fire tower and watch for smoke. He'd be out there at the fire tower for 10 days to two weeks at a time. Alone. Fire watching is not the most exciting job, and there can be a lot of idle time to fill. But my father was never someone to be bored, especially when all of the great outdoors was present for entertainment purposes.

With many years spent outdoors, hunting and camping, my father was an accomplished camp cook. He knew what you could pack, catch, hunt, and cook over an open flame in a cast iron pan. An easy staple of camping is pancakes. Flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, a little oil, an egg, a hot pan, and you're in business.

Out in the Western mountains, there lives a particular type of blue jay known as a camp robber. These jays are large, loud, aggressive, and not at all shy about invading your camp and making off with anything shiny or tasty. They can really be pests if they happen to latch on to your campsite.

As I mentioned, my dad had a lot of time on his hands while on fire tower duty. So, he started to play a game with the camp robbers.

He'd get up in the morning, brew some coffee, and wait for the jays to get curious, landing nearby, squawking, and focusing their beady little black eyes on my dad and his cookware. My dad would stoke the fire, getting the grill, a hot cast iron pan, and the pancake mix ready. One the pan was hot, he started pouring the batter in and making pancakes.

First, he did little silver dollar sized pancakes, setting them nearby, and the jays started snatching them almost as quick as he could get them out of the pan. They'd grab them in their claws and make off, triumphant. And then, of course, they would come back, because my dad was still cooking. Each round of pancakes got progressively larger: saucer-sized, bread-plate sized, and the camp robbers still greedily snatched them up and carried them off. But as the pancakes got bigger, the snatching got slower, the pumping of wings was harder, and the camp robbers got quieter, apparently needing their breath to carry off their increasingly-heavy spoils.

My dad just wanted to see how big of a pancake those camp robbers could, and would carry off. Finally, he got to the largest, thickest cakes of all - the full size of his big cast-iron skillet, and an inch thick. Plop, out of the pan it went, on a rock. And down came a big, fat, bold, dusty-blue camp robber, siezing that giant prize in his claws, and trying to take off. And trying. Flapping his wings, clawing into the pancake again, almost visibly huffing and puffing, barely clearing the ground, the pancake dragging along behind.

The camp robbers had gotten their come-uppance for being greedy, in the form of a giant flapjack, and my father laughed himself into breathlessness, watching the now-tired camp robber still trying to flap off with his prize.

No, my father was never bored.

One of my favorite photos of me & my dad. I was about 4, so this is probably in 1977. We're riding a friend's horses.

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

I love doing these things. I'm a sucker for questionnaires, and I've always liked this one that I've borrowed from Sundry, and also via A'Dell because I liked her adaptation. The last time I did this was for 2011. I was a little busy at the end of 2012, so I didn't manage to do it last year.

1. What did you do in 2013 that you'd never done before?

Parented two children. TWO. I stayed at home with the two of them for almost five months. It was both lovely and hard, y'all. I realized once and for all that I am not cut out for full-time SAHM-hood.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions and will you make more for next year? I don't normally make much in the way of New Year's resolutions. I almost always say the same thing about myself: that I would like to be more patient with everyone in my life. That hasn't changed.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Sort of. I felt very connected to the births of A'Dell's baby Preston, and Brooke's baby Emme. These two babies were born shortly after Ajax, and I bonded with these kickass women all through our pregnancies. A'Dell and I know each other via Twitter, blogging, etc. and have never met in real life, though it doesn't feel that way. She's a real friend, and we're going to meet in person someday. With margaritas. I'd love it if our children could meet too, since our oldest and youngest are the same ages. Brooke and I know each other from college, and have kept in touch via Facebook, Twitter, etc. Baby Emme was born soon after Ajax, and I was so taken with this baby girl, with the strength and peace of her, even as she and her amazing family have grappled with treating her congenital heart condition.

4. Did anyone close to you die? No.

5. What countries did you visit? Ha, ha, ha. I should change this question to something like, did you visit anywhere that was not a grandparent's house? We did make a trip to LA in February that I had much extreme anxiety about, but which turned out to be SUCH a fantastic trip, and I'm so, so, so glad that we went. California is a strangely magical place.

6. What would you like to have in 2014 that you didn't have in 2013? Sleep. SLEEP. SLEEEEEEP. The baby boy has got to sleep some more in 2014, so that I can sleep, too.

7. What dates from 2013 will be etched upon your memory and why? The sleepy, cocooning newborn days with Ajax and Helene in January. Our first perfect day in Los Angeles, on the beach, and at the Santa Monica pier. Watching my mom hold Ajax while he slept when we visited in May. Sitting on the porch at Martha's Vineyard, sipping wine, and watching Ajax play. A perfect day in Oak Bluffs with just Helene - carousels, games, and ice cream. Our anniversary, falling on the first day of the Federal government shutdown. I think I remember all of those times because they were all days where I wasn't stressed or hurried or impatient, and I was right in the moment, right there.

8. What was your biggest achievement of this year? Surviving my first year as a mother of two, with everyone generally happy and healthy.

9. What was your biggest failure? I feel like I failed Helene in little ways, but often. Not enough patience or hugs, when she perhaps needed them. It was so hard to figure out how to handle her, this year, to figure out what it was she needed. I feel like I should have figured out how to be more patient and playful and understanding.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I did tweak/throw out my lower back pretty good a couple of weeks ago, and I've been slowly recovering from that. It's the site of an old falling-off-a-horse injury, and I just haven't been taking care of keeping my back muscles strong and flexible. Otherwise, nothing, thank goodness.

11. What was the best thing you bought? I always say our cleaning service is the best money I spend every two weeks. I practically weep with happiness when I come home to a clean house. However, I'm going to say the best things I bought in 2013 were three IKEA Expedit shelving units. Two medium ones - one in the basement, one in Helene's room, and one small one on the landing at the top of our stairs. Those things hold a TON of books, toys, whatever, and they gave us some much needed storage and organization. I am ALL ABOUT a place for everything, and everything in its place, and these shelves seriously satisfy my obsessive complulsive anti-clutter needs.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Probably my husband's for almost never raising his voice at me or, you know, smothering me with a pillow in my sleep. Thank goodness he puts up with me, and still seems to even quite like me. I am not that easy to deal with, frankly.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? The Tea Party. Come on, assholes. You shut down the government for three weeks and committed a colossal waste of money and time over a law that is enacted, in force, and upheld by the Supreme Court of the United States. Let it go and move on.

14. Where did most of your money go? I am not the CFO of this operation, but pretty sure it's mortgage and childcare.

16. What song will always remind you of 2013? Michael Franti's "I'm Alive." It's such a happy, fun song, and Ajax loves it. He and I danced to it a lot this year.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? (c) richer or poorer? (a) At this time last year, I was still in the newborn sleepless haze of ecstatic, yet exhausted. So, I'd say happier, if only slightly better rested. (b) I'm thinner, since I'd just had a BABY at this time last year. Soooo happy that's over and done with. (c) It's probably a wash, since I didn't work for half of 2013, but the stock market did better with our retirement fund, etc.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Sleep. Spend time with friends. Both were sort of impossible, due to having a baby, unfortunately.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Being impatient. Losing my temper. Stressing. Yelling.

20. How did you spend Christmas? My in-laws stayed with us, so we had to travel exactly nowhere, thank goodness. They amused the children, while I cooked Chinese food in homage to "Jewish Christmas" for Seth's side of the family. I made General Tso's chicken, sesame noodles, eggplant, and broccoli. We also got dim sum and Chinese desserts from a restaurant. We ate in the middle of the day, so it's easier to be lazy about cleanup. I was a little too on edge/cranky for part of that day for no good reason, so I opened some wine, and that seemed to help. I worry terribly about not having Christmas live up to the expectations of the children, and I think I need to do better next year.

21. What was your favorite TV program? I'm still in love with Treme. And Game of Thrones, of course. Those I am more or less current on. I am currently addicted to Breaking Bad on Netflix, which of course I have a soft spot for because it's set in my homeland of New Mexico. But if anything happens to Baby Holly, I might have to quit watching. Someone, please tell me Baby Holly stays safe and unscathed.

22. What was the best thing you learned? *crickets* Um. Huh. I don't think I have enough brain cells left to learn anything new. See, e.g. old dog, no new tricks.

23. What was the best book you read? Rainbow Rowell's Eleanor & Park. I loved, loved, LOVED this book. It spoke to my soul. She captures the sheer intensity of teenage feelings so well. My heart just broke for Eleanor over and over again, because of the secrets she had to keep, and the tortures and indignities she had to endure. I just wanted SO BADLY for things to be good for her. This book also enraptured me because of the musical references. I was a little younger than Eleanor & Park when all of the music that they were listening to came out - Joy Division, The Cure, etc. - and I remember how emotional and intense that music was for me then. Sigh. So good.

24. What was your greatest food discovery? Well, this is booze, so that counts, right? Lambrusco. Italian sparkling red wine. I had it at a recent fancy dinner out, courtesy of my very thoughtful husband and visiting in-laws, and I want to have it stocked in my house ASAP.

25. What did you want and get? A couple of great vacations with my family that involved warm weather, beaches, sun, grandparent babysitting, unplugging, and good food. I could use weeks like that about every month or so.

26. What did you want and not get? Sleep. (See a theme here?)

27. What was your favorite film of 2013? I don't see many movies, honestly, so my pool to choose from is a bit shallow. Like about 3 or 4 deep. I'd have to say, though, that Skyfall was my favorite. I really love Daniel Craig as James Bond.

28. What was your best musical discovery of2013? I think I'm going to go with the re-discovery of Nicolette Larson's "Sleep Baby Sleep" album. I bought it when Helene was a baby, but didn't listen to it that much. It's become Ajax's and my special bedtime music, and I now have overwhelming emotional associations with it. Some of the songs can undo me in a line or two.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? On my actual birthday, I made myself a giant pot of posole, one of my favorite New Mexico dishes, with green chile that my mom had sent me. My best girl and I made and decorated my cake ourselves, which made it the best cake ever. I spent it with my little family of four, and I couldn't have been happier. Even though I was turning 40. FORTY. Yeow. Whatever, I'm kicking forty's ass, thanks.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? You guessed it, SLEEP. That, and being able to spend in-person time with my best friends.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept of the past year? What the hell fits?! Does it look terrible? No? Well, I guess I'll leave the house in it. Seriously, the first 6 or 7 months of this year, my body was a different shape every week. While I squished myself into my stretchiest pre-pregnancy jeans about a month after Ajax was born, nothing was in the same place or the right place or the right shape. I've worn maternity clothes, nursing clothes, and at least 2 sizes of pre-pregnancy clothes this year. Since I'm still nursing & pumping, certain of my clothes are still off-limits, e.g. long tunics and dresses are still in mothballs, so to speak. So. Not so much the year for fashion.

33. What political issue stirred you the most? The new healthcare law, and the ways in which it worked well, or didn't work. I do think it gave many people much better access to healthcare, and that shouldn't be overlooked. It did, unfortunately, make healthcare significantly more expensive for certain people, which is so aggravating and disappointing, but it was still a huge, HUGE step in getting EVERYONE, especially the most vulnerable (e.g. CHILDREN) access to healthcare.

34. Who did you miss? I missed my friend Becki the most. She came to visit in March, and I love her for it. I hope we get to see each other more in person in years to come.

Becki & Ajax

35. Who was the best new person you met? Our nanny Janine. She rocks (and not just because she is great at assembling IKEA furniture), and we are so, so, so lucky to have her as part of our family.

36. What was a valuable life lesson you learned in 2013? You can still fly on an airplane without a photo ID. Having a crying baby strapped to you and a 4-year old tugging on your sleeve seems to speed the alternate screening process.

37. What are some of your favorite photos from the year? I take a crap ton of photos, so it's hard to choose, but oh, all right, here you are.

Monday, October 01, 2012

How has it been seven years since our wedding? How is it that I've known you for nine years? They've gone by in a flash. Full, so full, of travel and fun and food and wine and memories and laughter. I remember all of that so much more than the few sadnesses that have shadowed our years.

And now we have her, this girl, this spitfire. Always turning up the wattage on our life, making it technicolor bright.

Friday, December 30, 2011

I don't often do things like this, but I rather like this questionnaire, which I swiped from Sundry and Hilarity in Shoes. I barely remember what I did an hour ago, so it's kind of nice to look back at my year and dig up the stuff that deserves to be remembered.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

I was away from my daughter for an entire week for the first time in our lives. My mother in law generously offered, and I happily accepted. I had the most amazing week, which included the perfect weekend in NYC with one of my best friends, and two days of celebrating my husband's birthday.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I've mentioned before that I'm not much for resolutions. However, I did say I wanted to be a better wife. I tried. You'd have to ask my husband if I succeeded. Will I make more? Eh. Probably not really.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

No one close. Far-flung friends and friends from the interwebs only.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No. Whew.

5. What countries did you visit?

The many countries of my mind. International travel is just not in the cards right now. I'll dust off my passport again someday.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

Another baby. Oh, wait, did I say that out loud? More patience. Especially for my daughter.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

-A day in late winter when one of my best friends called, told me she wanted a divorce from her husband (another close friend), and asked if I could help her find an attorney. It was the second marriage of a close friend that I watched fall apart in the span of a few months. I'm still in shock about it, because they, as a couple, were such a huge part of my life and my support system. It's sure as hell made me examine my own marriage under a microscope.

-The magnificent, perfect late June weekend that I spent in New York with one of my best friends, Maya. It could not have been more amazing.

-Three nights alone with my husband for his birthday. We ate well, pretended to be hip and cool, slept late, walked down the street holding hands, and sat on a roof deck watching the sun set over Capitol Hill, giddy, finding our old selves there, under the veneer of parenthood.

-A perfect long July afternoon at our community pool. We'd gotten home from vacation, and found our AC broken. We redeemed the disaster by spending as much of the next day at the pool as possible. It makes me wish the summer were still going on, and that every day was like that day.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Just keeping it all afloat without being institutionalized. This working-parenting-living gig is not for the faint of heart.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Every time that I yelled or lost my temper at my daughter or husband for no good reason.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

A weird bone splinter thing on my big toe early in the year. Pain solved by not wearing heels for a month. A stomach bug in March that felled everyone in the house, one by one, and that took me too long to recover from, thanks to some weird drug side effects. I also had two of the most horrific colds I've ever had this year. One was over the summer, and involved a sore throat so bad that I was positive it had to be strep, and it wasn't. The second cold I got right after Thanksgiving, and made me realize just how very much snot a human head can produce (a fuckton, if you must know, in technical terms). Nothing crazy, but I used to get sick maybe once a year. And then I birthed a petri dish of ebola child.

My new Kindle. It was a gift from my husband for Mothers' Day, and it's made me really embrace reading again. Not that I ever stopped, but damn, I treat that thing like a slot machine at Vegas, except it spits out words instead of quarters. I'm just so happy that the 3,000 books I can have on there don't take up any room in my space-limited urban rowhouse.

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?

Anything from The National's "High Violet" album.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:

Happier or sadder? Happier. A major factor is that my daughter is older, and just so much less needy of me. And that she sleeps. SLEEP. Thinner or fatter? Thinner. I think. Richer or poorer? Richer, in all ways.

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Sleeping. Time alone with my husband.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Stressing out over stupid, insignificant things. When I'm tired or busy, it's just too easy for me to get overly wound up over all the wrong things.

18. How did you spend Christmas/Hanukkah?

We celebrated Christmas at our house on the 24th, and had a lovely relaxing day full of presents, a fire (in the fireplace!), wine and good food. I really think I want to do it that way every year because the stores are open, so you can run out and get that extra bottle of wine or stick of butter. December 25 was spent (1) driving to New Jersey for my husband's family's annual Hanukkah party; (2) ditching the kid with her grandparents and seeing a movie; and (3) eating tasty Chinese food with the family like a good Jew. The 26th was an all-day family Hanukkah fest full of bagels, latkes, lox, laughter, wine, presents, fire, more wine, desserts, wine, more presents, happy kids running around with their cousins. It was all awesome, and I wish I could do it every day.

19. What was your favorite TV program?

Game of Thrones, hands down. I am a giant nerd.

20. What were your favorite books of the year?

Ohhh, so many to choose from. I loved The Help, and read it for what it is - a great story, set in a certain time and place, with extraordinary characters. So glad I read it before all the proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan when the movie came out. A Discovery of Witches also stands out, and I can't wait for the next books in the series. Finally, I went on a YA dystopian fiction tear, and my favorites were The Hunger Games series, The Uglies series and Divergent (eagerly awaiting the next books). There wasn't fiction quite like that when I was a YA, and some of it is really good. I am also a nerdy 16-year old girl at heart.

21. What was your favorite music from this year?

I listened to "High Violet" and "Boxer" by the National kind of nonstop. I also loved everything from the Treme soundtrack - it makes me so homesick/nostalgic for New Orleans.

22. What were your favorite films of the year?

Ha ha ha ha ha ha, ohhhh. Um, see, I never go to the movies. I didn't go all that much even before having a kid, and now we only go when we have parent babysitting, because it's hard to justify $15 per hour for a $10 movie. I saw exactly two movies this year in a theatre: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 and Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. By default, they were my favorites.

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I was thirty-goddamn-eight, damn it. Old. Sigh. I always try to stretch the celebration out to several days. My in laws were visiting, so I got to go out for two consecutive nights (crazy, right?) with friends for great food and beverages. I had to work on my actual birthday, and was getting my kid's cold, but tried to rally for dinner out with the guy and the girl anyhow.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Winning the lottery. Duh.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

I've been trying to spruce up my quality basics with some color and print and different non-solid, non-boring fabrics- hello, Anthropologie! I covet all of you. I also bought and wore and liked two pairs of skinny jeans, which I swore I would never wear again since I lived through the '80's.

This sounds so cliched, but don't take the great things in your life for granted. Stop and appreciate them. Thank your husband for everything he does. Screw making dinner - order takeout or make grilled cheese - and sit down on the floor and play with your kid. Hug everyone. Tell your mother in law what an awesome, generous, creative babysitter she is. Call your friends and send them unexpected presents. I just saw friends' lives crumble around them this year as their marriages dissolved, as they mourned lost loved ones, and as they tried to pick up the pieces. I was scared and humbled by their losses, and it makes me want to appreciate the living daylights out of everything I hold dear.

Friday, September 09, 2011

I can't believe it has been ten years since we woke up to the incomprehensible sight of a plane hitting one of the World Trade Centers in New York. It is both just yesterday, and an age ago.

My mother said today that she hoped we would be out of town, out of DC all this weekend. I couldn't figure out why, at first. I thought, there's no hurricane coming. Then I realized she was talking about this tenth anniversary of 9/11. No, Mom, sorry. We are not leaving. I refuse to be paranoid, refuse to be afraid. This is my home, and we have things to do.

Monday, May 02, 2011

Seth told me as soon as I woke up this morning. He knew I would want to know.

"Osama bin Laden is dead. They killed him. Obama had a press conference around 11 last night."

"Holy shit. Where was he?"

"In Pakistan."

"I've been waiting almost ten years to hear that."

The reason I've been waiting for such news is that all the evidence shows that Osama bin Laden orchestrated the murder of my friend, Peter Morgan Goodrich, almost ten years ago on September 11, 2001. Peter was killed on United Flight 175, the second highjacked plane to hit the World Trade Center.

That day is crystal clear in my memory. A perfect, blue sky September day. My then-boyfriend's mother calling me, telling me to turn on the TV. I was unemployed, still in bed. Her panicked, garbled words about planes crashing into the World Trade Center made no sense. I gasped and shivered with horror as I watched the black smoke pour out of the Twin Towers, as that second plane crashed. I went over to my boyfriend's parents' house, unable to be alone. An e-mail that morning from my friend Janine, thankful that her friends and family were all safe. Only a couple of hours later, she had to retract it in sickening grief, as she learned her brother-in-law had been on that second plane. There are no words for how numb and stunned and sick I felt. I could not watch the television anymore, not those plane crash images, because it was Peter dying, over and over and over again, in full, sharp technicolor. Then there was confusing television footage of planes bombing something in the Middle Eastern night- Baghdad? Afghanistan? My boyfriend's sister cheered, punching the air, "Yeah! Ooh! Get 'em!"

I crumpled, my energy gone, full of nothing but aching sadness. "No more death," I thought. Please, no more death. That can't be the answer. I went home, huddled indoors with the dog, escaping the eerily silent, empty, perfect crystal-blue skies above Washington, DC.

I flew with friends to Peter's memorial a week or so later, crying as airport security made me take off my shoes in the deserted BWI airport, because I knew I had to take off my shoes because Peter (along with hundreds of others) was dead. Murdered.

We huddled in the box pews of the Old First Church in Bennington, where we'd watched Janine marry Peter's brother, Foster, just exactly three years before. It was their third anniversary that day. We should have been toasting them, but we were listening to the unbearable sound of Foster's voice cracking with grief as he eulogized his only brother, as we wrapped our arms around each other, and ran out of tissues.

Some essential piece of all of our innocence died with Peter on that September day. So many things fell apart after that day, like it was the final blow. We were all so broken. Janine and Foster were absolutely overcome and drowning in their grief. Janine, Foster, Becki, her new husband Chris and I were all struggling with employment and unemployment, all trying to find our footing in this tilted "new normal." I had been knocked breathless by a bitter breakup with that boyfriend, and I fled to my friends in Vermont, who were struggling just as much as me. But we couldn't fix ourselves, or each other. We were all too sad and raw and struggling. That time was so bad; I don't have adequate words. It resulted in Becki and I not speaking to each other for seven years, in all of us feeling nothing but sick and sad and helpless. There was no comfort. I think now that it was the beginning of the long, slow, end of Janine and Foster's marriage.

I am not an advocate of the death penalty. The way it has been done in this country is barbaric, uncivilized and arbitrary. However, anytime after 9/11, if I had seen Osama bin Laden, I would have tried to kill him with my bare hands.

I never thought the U.S. would find bin Laden. Central Command for Afghanistan was, at that time, run out of MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa. A friend was an Air Force colonel there, and he told me that they had technology and real-time information that I would not believe at MacDill, all focused on finding bin Laden. He used to hassle some of the guys working the bin Laden search: "Come on, with all this, you can't find just one guy?" But it was a needle in a haystack; a pebble in the rough Afghan mountains.

Peter's brother and parents felt very connected to the World Trade Center site as Peter's final resting place. Visiting there gave them some measure of comfort. Months and months and months after 9/11, some of Peter's remains were identified, from DNA extracted from his hairbrush or toothbrush. A femur. They had a goddamn femur. All Foster could say, his voice breaking with tears, was, "Where's the rest of him?" Wounds newly raw, opened up by that bone, Peter's wife and family tried to plan yet another service.

I have hated the image of bin Laden every time I saw it on TV, as he looked smug and alive in those videos that would surface from time to time.

I can't believe the U.S. actually found him, that he is actually, finally dead and gone. It is closure, I suppose. I am not one of those people who feels like celebrating, like waving the American flag and cheering like we just won the Superbowl. It is some measure of justice of the oldest fashioned kind - an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It feels somber to me. I am not cheering. I am quietly remembering Peter, one of the most thoughtful, generous and intellectually curious people I have ever met. I am remembering his own copy of the Koran, well thumbed, intensively bookmarked, that he had read and studied on his own, out of sheer curiosity and interest, a book whose text he likely knew better than his murderers who invoked it.

Are we even? No, we never will be. The ripples of only Peter's death immeasurably, irreparably changed the courses of dozens of lives. i can't even imagine what the deaths of all the 9/11 victims has collectively changed forever. Death never makes it even. Never. At most, it closes one loop, an eye for an eye. A femur for a femur. At the end, all we can do is remember, and try to move forward, our boats beating against the current, borne ceaselessly into the past.*

Friday, November 12, 2010

This is a 30 Days of Truth post: Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.

This post has conspired against me and mired me down. It has been terrible to write, terrible to revisit this time. It was almost done, and with an errant keystroke, gone. I have to end it this time, fast, succint, better than I did it in life.

"Are you or have you ever been afraid of your current sexual partner?" asked the form at the Tulane University health clinic. My pen hovered for much too long over the "yes" and "no" check boxes. I wanted to check yes. I wanted to check yes so someone would ask me, so maybe someone could free me. I wanted to check yes, but instead, I checked no. I checked no, and remained captured.

What would have happened if I had checked "yes," that day; if I had broken up with him the year before or sooner; if I had not followed him to law school? What if, what if, what if.

He was my college boyfriend. I was his "first"; he was not mine. We became quickly exclusive sometime sophomore year. I didn't always see how he was cutting me off, isolating me. Even when I did things for him that I didn't want to do, like skipping Winter Carnival senior year to go to Boston with him, ostensibly to comfort his best friend through a bad breakup. What I didn't see is what I was enabling: his neuroses, his fears, and his control over me. I thought I was being supportive, faithful, loyal. Rather, that's what I was told. I was told that if I did not do certain things, that I was unfaithful, unloyal, betraying.

I was told that I thought things wrong, had the wrong opinions, did things wrong. I was belittled, controlled, demeaned, and made to believe he only did these things because he loved me. He isolated me from the friends that were supposed to be "our" friends. I saw him change over three years of college, saw him be very cruel to people that I loved, that were close friends, that he professed to love. But when I tried to do something, I was accused of disloyalty, unfaithfulness, un-love. And I loved him. I did. Blindly, passionately, optimistically. It got worse over three years of college, and worse yet when I succumbed to going to the same law school as him, which was not the school I really wanted to go to. Somehow, he convinced me to leave my car at his parents' house during our first year of law school, somehow he convinced me that we only needed his car, only had room for one car. It was really so he could control where I went.

The wall punches next to my head started senior year of college. I don't remember how much I got charged extra for dorm damage, for those holes in the plaster in my dorm room. Those holes that I covered with wall hangings and posters. The raising of his hand, then stopping just short of hitting me...that started during our first year of law school. I started to beg him to hit me, told him to just do it, because I thought it would set me free. Then there would be a strike, a bruise, a mark, something concrete, and not just the horrible, daily, hourly crushing of my spirit that happened.

He started to cheat on me with someone else in law school, claiming it was benign, that they just had things in common. I believed it even as he spent nights at her apartment. Wanted to believe it, because that's how bullied, cowed, captured I was. I still believed he was the sweet, somewhat naive, so-smart boy that I had met my freshman year of college. He went out drinking with his new friends, while I stayed home. I wasn't invited, and I had no friends of my own, because I'd been so isolated by him. We'd also only brought his car to New Orleans. He'd convinced me we only should have one, because we only had one parking space. It was really so he could control me. I tried to leave one day, to jump in that car and drive off, to a coffeehouse, to anywhere, anywhere at all, and somehow, before I could even get out of the apartment parking lot, he was there in the car, pulling me out, taking the keys, saying "where do you think you're going?" in a coldly amused voice, leading me back up to the apartment like a bad child, as I hung my head, broken, trapped, again.

Of course, he broke up with me. I slid into a dark well of depression, hanging a black sheet over the bedroom window because I never wanted to wake up. He ripped it down when he came home from his new girlfriend's house the next day. He badgered me to get over it, didn't understand why I was so upset when he was fine, because he didn't want to have to inconveniently feel guilt.

Yet he still wanted all the control. I was forbidden to tell anyone we had broken up. I was forbidden to move out, and it would have been nearly impossible to find an apartment mid-spring semester anyhow. We were visiting his parents for spring break, and he didn't want to tell them either, forcing me to play out a horrible charade that whole week. I couldn't talk to my best friends, because they were also his friends, and according to him, it would be wrong of me to talk to them about him, a betrayal of our privacy, of our relationship. I was so cowed, so broken. I couldn't win an argument with him; he just told me I was dumb, that I thought wrong, that I was wrong, or he raised his hand as if to strike me, making me duck and tremble. I obeyed.

It gets worse, so entangled a web it was. My summer position was with a law firm in Providence where his uncle was a partner. I had arranged ages ago to stay in his parents' large and lovely waterfront house near Providence, in southern Massachusetts, rent-free. They weren't there much of the time, as they worked and had other appointments and engagements in Boston, and were often at their apartment there. I should have sublet a summer apartment from a Brown student. But my wings were so clipped, I was so mired, so depressed, so paralyzed, so still under his control, that I didn't know what to do, could barely function.

He finally told his parents, before summer arrived. They were (and still are, I am sure) some of the kindest, most generous people I will ever know, and I hope I can be as kind to someone someday as they were to me that summer, and after. Their generosity made it all better and worse. I saw the life I had so long imagined in that magnificent house, with its seven fireplaces, rambling lawns, sunset views, in ruins before me. I still stupidly thought that if I said the right thing, looked the right way, had sex with him one more time, that he would come back. I still so stupidly wanted him back, Stockholm girl that I was. I was so sad, still crying all the time, pounds melting off of my body from all of the weight of the sadness and manipulation that I carried that summer. Sometimes, I thought about driving my car off the road, into a ditch, a tree, because it all hurt so much.

I toyed with transferring schools, and perhaps I should have. What would have happened? But I stayed, determined to finish what I had started. We went back to school that fall, and it still didn't get better. I still wasn't free, because somehow, I had given him a set of keys to my new apartment in New Orleans. He insisted, so he could help me, take care of me, control me, keep tabs. I was too tired, too depressed, so I allowed it. I still cried an awful lot, but I called up some classmates, tried to make new friends. Even as every glimpse I saw of him and his new girlfriend crushed me anew, squandered the self-worth I had tried to save up.

Then his parents came for a visit, part business for his father, part pleasure. I had dinner with them one night, because I still had a friendship with them, which they generously reciprocated, because they knew I needed it, and knew, as I did, that it would end in time. The next night, he burst into my apartment, uninvited, yelling at me, accusing me of making his mother cry, refusing to leave. Something in me finally snapped, and steeled. I asked for my keys, threw open my apartment door, and I asked him to leave my apartment. He refused. I raised my voice, put my hand on the phone, and asked him to leave, or I was calling the police. I also knew that my apartment had thin walls, and that my burly male med student neighbor was home, and that he wouldn't stand for any shenanigans. I picked up the phone and started to dial. He finally gave me the keys and backed out of the apartment, snarling. He left for the same reason he never actually hit me: he didn't want anything to stand in the way of his aspirations to money and power at a white shoe Boston law firm. I locked the door behind him. I should have changed the locks.

He had the gall to call me in the spring, just as our second year was almost over, ask me out for a drink. I met him, alert and wary. We sat on the tilting balcony of one of Uptown's storied and divey bars. There was small talk, and then he got to it. He accused me of cutting him off from all of our mutual friends from college, of turning them all against him, because I'd told them all such horrible things about him. I was dumbfounded. I laughed in astonishment, because I knew the truth. He hadn't talked to any of those friends in over a year, had never attempted to contact them, hadn't called them, written, e-mailed, nothing. I talked to them often. I had also told them that it was their choice; that I wouldn't tell them anything they didn't want to hear about him, and that I knew he was their friend as well. They could handle it as they liked. If he had ever bothered to even ask any of those friends, to reach out to any of them, he would have known that. I stood up. I don't think I threw my drink on him, but I probably should have. I told him to never, ever contact me again. I walked out of that bar, onto a humid, oak-shaded street of New Orleans, got in my old pickup truck, and drove away.

I have never seen him since that day, except at a distance. I have occasionally had a vague awareness of where he might be, through friends and classmates. I never look him up online. I don't want to know.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

This old Fisher Price Little People boat is the best goddamn toy. It really is. And not just because of the deep nostalgia that this toy brings welling up in me.

Seth remembers having one as a kid. It was lost to the sands of time and yard sales. Seth's mom bought another one (now considered "vintage") on e-Bay last year, for all the visiting children to play with at her house. The Olive loved it, just loved it the first time she played with it, which was nearly a year ago. She opened and closed the blue top of the boat, dragged it around and around and around by its cord (it has wheels, and makes a satisfying "clickety-click" as it rolls along), put things in and out of it. I didn't let her play with the Little People last year, because they did seem awfully, swallow-ably small.

But now, she is bigger. She plays with the Little People, and puts them in the chairs, has them jump off the diving board, and sit in the captain's chair. They walk around the edge of the table and the edge of the bathtub. She finds it especially hilarious when the dog jumps off the diving board.

We have some of the 21st century Little People toys - a school bus and a house. But they seem dumbed-down. The people are bigger. Not as many things move. Those moving parts have been replaced by electronic sounds. The details are fewer. Nothing is metal. They don't seem built to last.

This boat floats like a cork in the tub, doesn't get waterlogged, and only capsizes in the most wild of splashing. The wheel turns, the diving board extends and retracts, the top opens, smooth on its hinges. There are so many tiny details - an anchor area rug inside the boat cabin, a lobster on a dish on the tiny table. It has been played with, no question. One leg is partly broken off on the barbeque grill, there are little scrapes and nicks in all of the plastic. A red Tiddly Wink remains lodged neatly in the seat of one of the chairs, but makes a seated Little Person only slightly off-kilter. None of it matters. This toy endures. It's her favorite toy of the moment. I wonder what she's imagining as she moves all of the people around. It looks like a nice life, Little People. I'm glad you're still around.